


No Mercy

by saphire_dance



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Black Mercy, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sex Toys, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphire_dance/pseuds/saphire_dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim finds himself trapped by a Black Mercy plant and finds it far to easy to give into his fantasies.</p><p>A kink meme fill</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Mercy

To say Tim is a little mad at being left behind at the Fortress of Solitude while Batman and Superman rush off to save the day is a bit of an understatement. He is furious. He’s disappointed. Dick of all people should trust him. He’s proven himself capable time and time again, but no, he’s stuck here like a kid grounded on a Saturday night.

He fumes, and sighs. Not that it does any good with only the AI around to notice. He starts wandering down the the halls looking for something to pass the time until his ride home gets back.

Several of the rooms are locked. He doesn’t bother trying to bypass the locks after the AI informs him the room he’d first tried to break into would kill him in less than 8.3 seconds. There are plenty of unlocked rooms to explore. Some are creepy. Why does anyone need that many lifelike statues? Others are boring and empty. The room that finally catches his interest is what seems to be the Kryptonian equivalent of a dusty storage room. Minus the dust. Artifacts from Superman’s many trips off planet., the AI informs him.

Tim explores the room with gleeful curiosity. He picks up and examines several items, but doesn’t bother asking the AI what they are or where they’re from. There’s only so much condescending snark he’s willing to accept from a glorified computer. 

A shiny crystalline object on a high shelf caught his attention and he stretched to reach up and get it, only to have it slip through his fingers. He scrambled to catch it, knocking over something on the shelf behind him before he managed to. He carefully set the slippery crystal on the much lower shelf in front of him before turning to see what he’d knocked over. He had only the barest moment to recognize the viney tentacles and black flower spilling out of the tipped over box before it was too late. Black Mercy.

**

 

"I'm disappointed, Robin." 

Tim blinked momentarily disoriented. He was in the cave, kneeling on the floor. Batman, Dick, was behind him. Tim could feel him moving, the sweep of his cape moving the cool air of the cave, making him shiver where he knelt, wearing only the shorts belonging to the original Robin costume.

Dick leaned close, growling in his ear. "You know better than that. Snooping around Superman's Fortress, playing with dangerous alien tech."

"I'm sorry." The apology is instinctive, but Tim's mind is elsewhere. The fortress, the Black Mercy. This is a dream, a hallucination, but how to get out. He'd read everything in Bruce's files, but the ones on space menaces were sparse. If there was enough cognitive dissonance, he could escape, he just had to keep denying this was real and...

Dick chuckled softly, and ruffled Tim's hair. He walked around Tim to sit in Bruce's big chair. He wore the cape, and the pants, and boots, but his chest was bare, and the cowl was down. His blue eyes sparkled and he looked a t Tim like... like Tim was something he wanted. Tim licked his lips and swallowed, he could just wait for Superman to rescue him, it would be easier for everyone involved.

"I know you're sorry, but you still need to be punished." Dick grinned and patted his lap. Come here."

Tim tried to stand, but collapsed back to his hands and knees. The movement had shifted something inside him, a plug, that left him clenching and panting as he got used to the object inside him.

"You can crawl if you really want to, Robin, but don't keep me waiting." It was six steps to the chair, it shouldn't have taken Tim half as long to get there as it did, even on his hands and knees. But each movement was a shock of pleasure as the plug moved. By the time he reached Dick's feet he was sweating and breathless, his cock straining the confines of the tiny shorts he was wearing.

"God, Tim, Robin." Tim closes his eyes and rests his head on Dick's knee, a small smile playing across his lips for the fact that he made Dick's voice break like that, even if all he did was crawl across the floor. Dick runs his fingers through Tim's hair for a bit, but before Tim can really catch his breath he hauls Tim up and across his lap.

Dick had said Tim would be punished, and he realizes now that means a spanking. Dick pulls Tim's shorts down, exposing his buttocks. He pets the exposed skin and Tim wonders if he's going to leave the plug in, a thought that makes him whine and clench around it. 

"How many strikes can you last without coming?" Dick asks, still gently petting.

Tim has to think, not an easy task at the moment. He's not sure spanking would even bring him to orgasm, but Dick is fulfilling one of his deepest darkest fantasies, and Tim stutters out, "T-ten."

"Ten?" Dick fingers the base of the plug, pushing it in a bit

"Five," He groans, and he's sure he's overestimating now.

"Let's go with seven," Dick purrs, pulling his hand away. "Count for me, Robin."

The first strike makes him scream, and claw at Dick's leg. It takes three breaths before he remembers he's supposed to be counting, and says, "One."

Dick purrs, his hand gently petting again, his fingers checking the plug in a way that makes Tim moan.

The spanking continues, and Tim would be proud to say he lasted to the sixth strike when the plug moved in just the right way. If Dick delivers the seventh blow he can't recall. One moment he's shuddering through the best orgasm of his life draped across Dick's lap, the next he's being tugged up to straddle Dick's lap.

He leans back against Dick's chest, still dazed and a bit shaky. "Lift up a bit more, Timmy." It takes a moment to figure out what Dick needs him to do, even with Dick's hands on his hips guiding him to kneel up.

He kneels there in the chair, knees to either side of Dick's legs as Dick shuffles about behind him, not paying attention til Dick starts to pull the plug out of him, eliciting a whine.

"Shh, just a sec. I've got something better."

Better? what could be better?

Dick's hand is on his hip again, pulling him down, and back. It isn't until Dick's dick is nudging at his hole that comprehension starts to seep into his sex addled brain. "Oh." Dick is going to fuck him. In Batman's chair. Tim moans loudly, the sound echoing through the cave, as he lowers himself the rest of the way down. Dick was right. This was much better.

**

Tim barely remembers about the Black Mercy by the end of the second day. Weeks go by, fighting crime, as Red Robin, and coming home to be the best Robin Dick could ask for. He can't look at Dick in the suit without getting hard. He can't listen to him say Robin without his dick twitching. He can't think about the little green shorts without needing to get off right then and there. They fuck everywhere. The Cave, their rooms in the Manor, Titan's Tower, all of Tim's favorite rooftops. It's a dream come true.

"Wake up, Tim, please. It's just a dream."

He blinks. Why is he in Superman's Fortress? They haven't been there since... since...

Superman and Dick are both hovering over him, and Tim flushes brightly. "Are you alright, Tim? I'm so sorry about this. If I'd realized the seal on that box was faulty..." It's strange watching Superman blather and apologize, but he can't look at Dick right now, not when every glance makes him twitch inside his already filthy cup.

The ride home is awkward. Dick is obviously concerned, and Tim just wants to die. Dick keeps talking about all the ridiculous situations he'd gotten into as Robin. Tim's relieved Dick thinks he's just embarrassed by the stupidity of the situation, but every time he mentions his suit, or says Robin, even though the context is all wrong, Tim wants to crawl into his lap and beg.

The shower is a welcome escape, icy cold water washing away all evidence that anything had happened today. Because nothing had happened. Not really. He lingers as long as he can, until his brain turns to the topic of hypothermia and wondering if the shower is really that cold. He pulls on his robe, and hopes he can sneak up to his room without running into Dick. 

Thankfully Dick is busy. Unhelpfully he's still half in the suit, sitting at the big chair at the computers. The chair where they'd... 

Tim runs upstairs.

Three hours of meditation, hadn't really helped, but it made him feel better enough to at least try sleeping. He was still half afraid of what he might dream of. But he lay down on the bed anyway. His eyes were half open, and he drifted, trying not to think of anything. Until he realized he was staring at his closet door. The closet that contained Dick's old suit. 

_Don't get any stains on it._ What had Dick been thinking when he'd given it to Tim? Tim's hands were curled around his sheets. Denial wasn't getting him anywhere, what would happen if he just gave in. 

The box still sat innocently at the back of his closet, not a speck of dust on it. Dick’s note still sitting on top of his neatly folded uniform. _Don’t get any stains on it._ Was Dick hoping he would? Did Dick think about him wearing it? Tim whimpered softly as he pulled just the shorts out of the box, and shoved it haphazardly back into his closet. 

He tossed the shorts to the foot of his bed and rummaged through his nightstand. He shouldn’t be doing this. But he needed to. He didn’t have many toys, nothing near the endless variety the Black Mercy had given him, but he did have a simple plug. It joined the shorts on the bed as he searched for lubricant.

It isn’t easy to let himself have this fantasy, he’s been pushing it away for longer than he can remember. He’s always tried to avoid thinking about Dick this way. Even if the Black Mercy only had him for a few hours Tim has weeks of memories of Dick , of getting himself ready for Dick. That’s what he’s doing, he realizes, getting himself ready for Dick. Fingering himself open, putting in the plug, putting on those shorts, everything to make him Dick’s good little Robin. Everything but Dick. 

Tim glanced at the clock, He’d be in his room by now. Right across the hall. Tim could... he could ask

His bathrobe covers everything but his flushed cheeks. He ends up standing outside of Dick’s door trying to catch his breath, the short walk across the hall leaving him dizzy with pleasure. He doesn’t know how long he stands there leaning with his forehead pressed against the door. This is stupid. He should just go back to his room, forget about everything.

“You know, it helps if you knock.” 

Tim startled, at Dick’s voice coming from down the hall, barely managing not to moan when he turns to face him. He must have just come up from the cave, still wrapped in one of the fluffy robes Alfred keeps down their for them. Being Batman was hard on him, but he was smiling softly at Tim. “I… Could we talk?”

“Always.” Dick’s smile brightened and he ushered Tim into his room.

Tim is glad his cheeks can’t get any redder. He sat carefully on the edge of Dick’s bed, trying to hide his breathlessness with a deep sigh. “I… about today, the Black Mercy” He doesn’t look at Dick as he explains his fantasies. It’s hard enough to give voice to them as it is. 

“Tim.” Dick’s voice is soft, barely a whisper. He puts his hand on Tim’s shoulder and Tim braces himself for the rejection he’s sure is to come.

Dick pushing him down on the bed and purring “Robin,” startles him, enough that he can’t stop himself from moaning. Dick undoes the ties to TIm’s robe, smirking when he sees the green shorts. “You’ve been very naughty, haven’t you?


End file.
